A World in Which You Will Always Love Me
by Reese1
Summary: A story about the relationship between Schroeder and Lucy.
1. Sweet Sorrow

One day, the Van Pelt family moved out of the neighborhood, to a neighborhood far away, on the other side of town.  
  
"We're leaving for real this time," Lucy had said sadly to Schroeder, leaning against the piano while Schroeder played a Beethoven sonata.  
  
Schroeder had looked up and raised his eyebrows. Lucy, Linus, and their parents had moved away once before. Schroeder had never forgotten his feelings of guilt at not even having said goodbye. Sure, Lucy was vain, crabby, and bossy, but she did have her good qualities. She was smart, pretty, and relentlessly devoted to him. It flattered him a little to be the object of affection, even though he was too proud to admit it.  
  
"She's moving! She's gone!" Charlie Brown had said to him after she had departed.  
  
"I never even said goodbye," Schroeder had said miserably.  
  
Then, several weeks later, the Van Pelt family had returned. They had decided not to move after all. Standing before Schroeder's piano, Lucy had announced loudly, knocking him off his seat, "Your sweetie is back!!!"  
  
Schroeder contemplated these distant memories as he stood with Charlie Brown and Snoopy and watched Linus, Rerun, and Lucy get into the family van.  
  
"Goodbye," Lucy waved, smiling.  
  
"Bye, Lucy," Schroeder and Charlie Brown said in unison, waving back. Snoopy waved at Lucy too and blew her kisses.  
  
Tell me you're not leaving, Lucy, Schroeder thought to himself.  
  
Please tell me it's not true. I want to hear you tell me that nothing will ever change, that we'll always be children without a care in the world. I'll look up from my piano keys and see you gazing at me, entranced. You'll never fail to be there, my most faithful audience. You'll always be out there in center field, letting routine fly balls drop on your head. I'll be able to stroll down the street on a hot summer Sunday and see you lazing behind your "Psychiatric Help" booth, your feet on the desk, your hands clasped behind your head, your face an expression of worldly wisdom as you dispense crappy advice to Charlie Brown. Charlie Brown will always try to kick the football, and you'll always be there to thwart him.  
  
I need to know, Lucy. I need to know that there are still some things in this world that we can count on. things that make sense. I need to know that we'll never have to worry about stuff like growing old, watching our parents die. seeing the world change around us. I don't want to live in a world where friends separate and slowly drift apart, torn from each other by misunderstandings and hurt feelings or the sheer physical distance, until the day comes when we don't know each other and don't care anymore. Friends are forever, right? Isn't that the way it always should be? Please, Lucy, tell me we live in a world where people remain faithful in spite of all discouragement. Tell me we live in a world in which you will always love me.  
  
Schroeder, in an acute panic, began running after the departing van.  
  
"Lucy!" he cried, waving his arms frantically.  
  
Seconds later, the van came to a halt.  
  
"Lucy," Schroeder repeated as Lucy hopped out and ran toward him. They met each other about twenty yards behind the van, which idled on the road.  
  
"You have something you want to tell me?" Lucy said with a smile.  
  
"I. I." Schroeder fumbled with the words. He could not articulate what he was feeling at that moment.  
  
We are like family. I don't want it to end.  
  
"I'll miss you," he said softly.  
  
"You really mean it, Schroeder? You ran after me to tell me that? You're so sweet."  
  
Lucy hugged Schroeder, and Schroeder put his arms around her.  
  
"It's meant to be," Lucy whispered to him dreamily. "Remember what I've told you. We're going to be married one day, I just know it. And I'm always right!"  
  
They separated, and Lucy turned her head sideways and leaned toward Schroeder.  
  
"Won't you kiss me goodbye?"  
  
Schroeder hesitated. As usual, Lucy was babbling about the two of them falling in love and getting married. It was so annoying. They were only kids.  
  
But she was moving far away. He might not see her again for a long time. Nothing would ever be the same without her. Schroeder imagined playing endless hours at his piano and looking up, expecting to see Lucy gazing at him in admiration, and instead seeing no one. It made him feel emptiness in his soul. This was just a goodbye kiss. No harm in that, right?  
  
Blushing, Schroeder closed his eyes, leaned in, and kissed her on the cheek. In that gentle kiss, Schroeder quietly told her that they were friends, and that in growing up and playing together, they shared a bond that nothing on earth could destroy.  
  
Moments later, Lucy turned and walked back to the van. She got in and they drove away into the sunset, as Schroeder watched silently.  
  
"We'll meet again," he heard her voice speaking from within him as sounds of the van's engines faded into the twilight. "I promise." 


	2. Reunion

FIVE YEARS LATER  
  
The thunderous final chords of the Rachmaninoff piano concerto resounded through the concert hall as Schroeder, focused on his performance, pounded the keys with abandon. He knew nothing but the gorgeous Steinway grand piano before him and the wonderful music that emanated from within. For one moment, an image crept into his consciousness: that of a young girl named Lucy van Pelt. It seemed to Schroeder that as he wrapped up his triumphant recital that this girl was looking at him from across the other end of the piano, her hands propping up her head, her elbows on the shiny ebony surface.  
  
Lucy, is that you?  
  
It had been a long time since the day when Lucy, Linus, and Rerun had said good-bye and left the neighborhood. Lucy had been true to her word. This time it was for real. There was no second thought of returning. Schroeder had not seen Lucy for five years.  
  
The apparition vanished from his sight.  
  
When Schroeder thought about Lucy, he felt a bit of chagrin. He felt… how did he feel? What was the word he was looking for? Guilty. Yes, he felt guilty for the way he had treated her, insulting her and insisting that he would never love her unless she were the last girl on earth.  
  
"HOPE!"  
  
That's what she'd said when he'd told her that. He never forgot the absurdity of the moment, and it made him laugh to think about it.  
  
Sometimes, Schroeder wondered what might have happened if he had reached out to her and become her friend. The idea had seemed so repellent at the time. Hang out with a girl? Gross, what an unwholesome thought. But Schroeder was thirteen now. He had lost none of the good looks he'd been blessed with as a young child. Schroeder's grandmother exclaimed every year that he had grown more handsome. The girls at his school took notice of him. They said he was cute, and they pursued him. But none of them interested him. They were all either unattractive, or uninteresting, or both. Schroeder had not forgotten the first girl who had loved him. There was an indescribable charm attached to the one who was the "first."  
  
The audience in the crowded concert hall erupted in applause. Schroeder smiled as he stood up and took a bow. He gestured to the orchestra in acknowledgement. He could hear the voices in the crowd, all lavishing praise on him, proclaiming that he, Schroeder, was a genius, a prodigy. The teenaged girls in the audience gave a collective sigh in smitten admiration.  
  
* * *  
  
Schroeder made his way around the post-concert reception, thanking the well- wishers and admirers. He had become something of a town celebrity for his piano playing. This was his first large-scale public performance, and he had pulled it off brilliantly.  
  
"So talented, and so young!" someone exclaimed.  
  
A girl about his age approached him. Schroeder looked up, ready to smile and shake another hand, when he was astonished by the face before him. There was no mistaking Lucy, even after an absence of five years.  
  
"Hello, Schroeder," Lucy said with a shy smile. She held out for him a bouquet of roses.  
  
Dumbstruck, Schroeder silently accepted the roses. He did not know what to say to her.  
  
"You were wonderful tonight," Lucy said.  
  
"Thanks, Lucy," Schroeder said.  
  
"Is this how you act around your childhood friends? Come on, give me a hug," Lucy said, opening her arms to Schroeder. They embraced.  
  
"It's nice to see you again," Schroeder said. He forgot about everyone else in the room. For all he knew, it could have been only him and Lucy in that reception hall.  
  
The two separated.  
  
Schroeder looked at his watch.  
  
"Hey, it's only 10:00," he said to Lucy, "want to hang out someplace?"  
  
Lucy smiled. She fidgeted for a few seconds.  
  
"Um, actually…"  
  
Another boy, the same age, approached Lucy and Schroeder. Schroeder turned and saw a guy he had never seen before.  
  
"Schroeder, this is Jimmy. Jimmy, this is Schroeder. We used to live down the street from each other when we were little kids."  
  
Schroeder and Jimmy shook hands congenially. Schroeder tried his best to conceal his disappointment that Lucy was not single. He hid his feelings beneath his smile.  
  
"Listen," Lucy said to her boyfriend, "I'm going to hang out with Schroeder tonight and catch up. I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay?"  
  
Jimmy nodded.  
  
* * *  
  
"I didn't expect to see you at a classical music concert," Schroeder said to Lucy as the two ate their ice cream sundaes at a table in the diner.  
  
"I listened to you play Beethoven's entire repertoire," Lucy said.  
  
She raised her eyebrow at him. "Didn't I?"  
  
Schroeder laughed.  
  
"Come on, you didn't listen to me because you were interested in the music."  
  
"Oh, so that's how it is. I just wanted to be near you, is that right? As a matter of fact, I've grown to like classical music," Lucy said. "When I read that you would be playing Rachmaninoff's piano concerto #2, I got so excited because I hadn't seen you in so long. I knew the music would be great, and that you would be brilliant."  
  
"Thank you," Schroeder said, looking into Lucy's eyes. She had grown more beautiful over the years. He had always remembered her as being mean- spirited and abrasive, a far cry from the gentle young woman who now faced him.  
  
"I thought of you when I was playing the concert," Schroeder confessed after a long silence.  
  
"You did?" Lucy blushed.  
  
"Remember when you used to sit at the other end of my piano and talk on and on about how someday we would be married?"  
  
"Oh," Lucy blushed even more, "you still remember that? How embarrassing. I can't believe I used to say things like that."  
  
Schroeder shrugged.  
  
"It was pretty funny, wasn't it?"  
  
"We were just kids. I'm sorry if I annoyed you all those years ago."  
  
"No, it's okay. I don't mind."  
  
Schroeder wanted to tell Lucy how he had thought of her with regret and wondered at what might have been. He wanted to tell her that if he could go back, he would have been nicer to her. Most of all, he wanted to tell her how much he missed her at the other side of his piano, because when he looked at her now, he was reminded of a time when they were younger and carefree.  
  
"Schroeder, I'd really like for us to be friends," Lucy said.  
  
"Me too," Schroeder smiled. "Can I call you sometime?"  
  
"Of course," Lucy said. "You have my number, right? I gave it to Charlie Brown five years ago. But no one ever called."  
  
"I'm sorry I never called," Schroeder said. "It always seemed too… weird. I didn't know what we'd talk about."  
  
"And I never called you because I was too proud. I felt like people should be calling me and not vice versa. It doesn't have to be that way, right?"  
  
Lucy gave Schroeder a hopeful look.  
  
The waiter came by the table with the bill. Schroeder reached into his pocket for his wallet, but Lucy stopped him by grabbing the tab.  
  
"No, it's my treat," Lucy said.  
  
"But—" Schroeder protested.  
  
"No, you deserve it, and anyway, I haven't seen you in years," Lucy said. "I want to do nice things for you. Make up for lost time, you know?"  
  
"Besides," Lucy said with a hint of irony in her voice, "you know how I am when I insist on something."  
  
* * *  
  
They were just two guys playing catch on the baseball field. Schroeder and Charlie Brown were alone as they tossed the baseball back and forth. It was something the two of them still enjoyed doing after all these years. The games between Charlie Brown's team and Peppermint Patty's team were no more. A new generation of kids had taken up playing their neighborhood baseball games, while Charlie Brown and Schroeder had gone on, with mixed results, to try out for their school's baseball teams.  
  
"So I make the team," Charlie Brown said, "and they put me on second base. Second base! I wanted to be a pitcher. I told the coach but he wouldn't listen."  
  
"And then what happened?" Schroeder said.  
  
"We were playing a pre-season game, and they were beating us badly. It got so bad that the coach came onto the field and handed me the ball. He said, 'Okay, round headed kid, you pitch to this guy.' So I took the ball with one out. I got the first guy to pop up. Then I struck out the second guy to end the inning."  
  
"You struck him out?!" Schroeder said in surprise. That was about as rare as Haley's Comet passing by the earth.  
  
"Yeah, can you believe it? After that I was on the starting rotation. I was doing great. But there was one game… I just could not get anyone out. They just kept hitting and hitting… and hitting. It was getting really ugly. Finally the coach pulled me from the game, and I sat on the bench and cried like a baby. I never pitched again. I kept wondering, every game, am I going to pitch today? But the ball never came into my hand.  
  
"Sometimes," Charlie Brown said, "I wonder what would have happened if it hadn't been for that one game. Would I still be pitching today? I miss the old days, when we had our whole gang together, and I pitched all the time."  
  
The two friends sat on the bench in silence. They could see the ghosts on the field, as in the days of old. There was Schroeder, five years younger, conversing on the mound with the hapless pitcher, Charlie Brown. There was Linus at second base. His idea of diligent defense was to stand there with his blanket and glove, sucking his thumb. Snoopy, the canine incarnation of Ozzy Smith, patrolled his section of the infield. Far off in the outfield, there was Lucy in center field, flanked on both sides by Violet and Pig Pen.  
  
Schroeder felt a lump forming in his throat. Where had their days of heaven gone?  
  
"I saw Lucy yesterday," Schroeder said as the two of them sat down on their old dugout bench.  
  
"Oh, really? What happened?"  
  
"We just hung out and talked for a while. She has a boyfriend now," Schroeder said.  
  
"You sound disappointed," Charlie Brown.  
  
"You think so?"  
  
"Yeah," Charlie Brown said, "if I didn't know better, it sounds to me like you liked her. You always liked her."  
  
"Huh, well," Schroeder said, embarrassed. "Maybe I did… a little."  
  
"Ha!" Charlie Brown cried, nearly knocking Schroeder off the bench, "I KNEW IT!"  
  
* * *  
  
Alone once again, Schroeder headed home after saying good-bye to Charlie Brown. On the way home, he spotted Snoopy. The old beagle was lying with his back on his dog house, his head resting on an old, weathered hard cover edition of Leo Tolstoy's WAR AND PEACE.  
  
"How's it going, Snoopy," Schroeder said, feeling stupid for talking to a dog.  
  
Snoopy opened an eye and gazed at Schroeder.  
  
"Still reading Tolstoy, I see," Schroeder said.  
  
(It's great), Snoopy thought. (I'm on the part where Nikolai Rostov meets Marya for the first time and rescues her from the rebellious peasants. How romantic! It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy all over.)  
  
"You know, I don't think I've seen you reading anything other than something by Tolstoy."  
  
(You must have missed me when I was reading some Proust. There's a great part in the story where the hero is describing his unrequited love for the girl Gilbertte. He decides one day that he will never see her again. Secretly, he longs for a message from her, asking for reconciliation, but it never comes. He knows that he will stop loving her one day, and the thought breaks his heart, but he goes on anyway. Remembrance of Things Past. Or as the French say, A la recherche du temps perdu.)  
  
"I saw Lucy again," Schroeder said. "You know, I never told her. I never told anyone how I felt about her. I missed her. I missed seeing her face and hearing her voice. I missed…"  
  
(I remember Lucy. I remember kissing her on the nose.)  
  
Silence.  
  
"Am I crazy for saying such a thing?"  
  
Snoopy only looked at Schroeder in relentless silence.  
  
"I must be crazy saying all this to a dog," he said as he walked away.  
  
Snoopy returned to his nap.  
  
(Ah, Je comprends,) he fancifully thought to himself as he drifted to dreamland. (Tu aime Lucy.)  
  
(You love Lucy.) 


	3. Play for Me

Many months passed, and Schroeder and Lucy began seeing each other with some regularity. They were old friends who lived on the opposite sides of town. The relationship between the two was nothing more than one of friendship, and Schroeder grew to accept the way things were.  
  
Schroeder believed that as more time passed, the feeling he harbored toward Lucy would diminish. If he could only grow accustomed to seeing Lucy as a friend, he would not secretly pine for her. He would not lie awake in bed thinking of her and replaying their most recent conversations in his mind. By a great effort of will, he could reach deep within himself and repress his true feelings. Slowly, Schroeder thought, he could bring about a suicide of the self that loved Lucy.  
  
There would be moments when Schroeder and Lucy were spending time together, doing the things they enjoyed doing together-eating out, going to movies, or taking a stroll around town. In these moments, Schroeder would perceive, in the way the restaurant's candle light danced in Lucy's eyes, or the way her lips tended, more and more, to curl into a warm smile, the subtle change in Lucy. Where there was once vanity and irritability, Schroeder now something more. He saw tenderness. In these moments, the dying part of himself that cared for Lucy rose up within his heart.  
  
Lucy seemed to have a new boyfriend every other month. First it was Jimmy. Two months later, it was a boy named Tim. Recently, Lucy had gotten into a fight with and broken up with her latest, Alan. Perhaps to distract himself from thinking of Lucy, Schroeder tried to lose himself in relationships with other girls. He decided to go out with the first cute girl who seemed interested.  
  
* * *  
  
"We went through the whole thing," Schroeder said. "You know how the girl tells her friend to let the guy's friend know that she likes that guy's friend. It's a whole networking thing. It's the way it's done, right?"  
  
"So what happened?" Lucy asked as she and Schroeder leaned over the old brick wall.  
  
"Carol dumped me after one week," Schroeder said flatly.  
  
"I'm sorry," Lucy said after a shocked silence.  
  
"I think it was something I said. I think when I mentioned that I have a huge Beethoven vinyl collection, she decided I was too nerdy for her."  
  
"Well, I don't think you're too nerdy," Lucy said, smiling.  
  
Schroeder laughed.  
  
"It's okay. I'm not too sad about it."  
  
"I have an idea," Lucy said. "Let's go back to your house. Will you play for me?"  
  
* * *  
  
Schroeder opened the closet of his bedroom and showed Lucy the small toy piano that he used to pound on as a child.  
  
"Remember that old thing?" Schroeder pointed.  
  
Lucy and Schroeder exchanged a meaningful look. There were no words needed to express the depth of experience they had shared over that little piano. All those times Lucy leaned on the end of the piano while Schroeder indifferently played one Beethoven sonata after another. Lucy would talk on and on about the two of them getting married, or some variation on that theme, while Schroeder would pretend not to hear her. Sometimes, he would yank the piano from under her and watch, with perverse pleasure, the way her head met the floor. But she would always come back.  
  
Schroeder cleared his throat as he led Lucy out toward the living room.  
  
"Anyway, I have a much better piano to practice with now," Schroeder said as he pointed out the grand piano in the corner.  
  
Lucy took a seat next to Schroeder before the piano.  
  
"Play something for me?" Lucy said.  
  
"Any requests?" Schroeder said.  
  
"Something nice," Lucy said.  
  
Schroeder thought for a minute and settled down, ready to play. He extended his fingers over the keys. Lucy observed with interest.  
  
"Don't you need music?"  
  
"I know it by heart," Schroeder said as he began playing.  
  
The music came softly and slowly, the notes dancing through the air with grace and fluidity. Lucy smiled in contentment as she listened to the beautiful music.  
  
She never used to respond to my music like that before, Schroeder thought to himself with a mixture of amusement and pleasure. Schroeder was even more surprised when Lucy leaned against him on the seat, her head resting on his shoulder.  
  
"It's very pretty," Lucy said.  
  
"It's by Rachmaninoff," Schroeder explained, "Rhapsody on a-"  
  
"No, don't tell me," Lucy said. "At least not now. I prefer to think of it as 'that lovely song Schroeder played for me.'"  
  
Schroeder finished the song.  
  
"What do you think about when you play the piano? I always wondered."  
  
I think about you, Lucy.  
  
"I was thinking about a dream I've had," Schroeder said as he continued playing. He absentmindedly played one long arpeggio after another.  
  
"A dream?"  
  
"I had a dream that I was with a girl that I really liked, maybe even loved. We'd known each other for a long time, and we were all grown up. We're sitting on a beach together, looking at the horizon, and the moment comes. I've never told her that I liked her, but I really want to. We're sitting together, talking about the normal things that we talk about all the time. And there's an awkward moment of silence. I think to myself, now is the time to say something. Just say the three words: I love you."  
  
"Then what happens?" Lucy said.  
  
"Then," Schroeder went on, "I don't say it. I know that she doesn't feel the same way, and that she would say so if I told her. So I tell her nothing. They are words destined never to be spoken between us. But she knows that I wanted to tell her, and I know that she knows. And at that moment, I decide that I don't ever want to see her again."  
  
"But why?"  
  
"Because," Schroeder said, "I know that she never felt the same way about me. It was a one sided relationship. Always, it was me calling her, asking her out, taking the initiative. Well, maybe I don't want to be the one who has to reach out to my friends all the time. And slowly, the months become years, and I go on without seeing her. I feel the part of myself that liked her is slowly dying. And the worst of it is that I am glad to see that part of myself die. I'm glad because I still have my pride, and I didn't humiliate myself by confessing love for a girl who didn't love me back."  
  
"And then?" Lucy prompted.  
  
"And then I wake up."  
  
"Schroeder," Lucy said, "is this girl me?"  
  
Schroeder stopped playing. The whole time, he had been playing while talking at the same time. Now he turned to look at Lucy. He said nothing, but his eyes told her yes.  
  
"You know that's not true. We're better than that," Lucy said.  
  
"I've thought about you every day since the day you left," Schroeder confessed. "I've grown to like you. But I've been afraid."  
  
"Afraid?"  
  
"Afraid that you didn't feel the same way, I guess."  
  
"I've never shared as much with anyone as I have with you," Lucy said. "I know I'm not perfect, and I've been pretty nasty at times. No one knows that as well as you do. We don't have to hide anything from one another. It's like six years just evaporated and we've picked up right where we left off, and everything is the same. Yet everything is not the same. You and I are not the same people anymore. But some things don't change, Schroeder."  
  
Lucy leaned against Schroeder, and Schroeder put an arm around her. He kissed her on the forehead.  
  
"What do you think, Lucy? Will this work? Do we get a happy ending?"  
  
"I don't know. I'd like to think we will," Lucy said hopefully.  
  
They looked into each other's eyes.  
  
"Play for me," Lucy said, putting an arm around Schroeder's waist.  
  
"What should I play this time?"  
  
"Something beautiful."  
  
And so Schroeder played again, the beautiful music rising from his keys and floating down the neighborhood streets, long into the evening.  
  
The End 


End file.
